Lyrics:
me
Just worry 'bout you and maybe I do
Have a long day
And it'll be a long time before
You ever see me again
Don't worry 'bout me, just worry 'bout you
Tell me what ya know bout it
Tell me what ya know about this
Tell me what ya know about that
They can talk all they want but they can’t stop by bag
My
tell it for free
Because it costs me
A little piece of my soul
That I can't get back!
One day your 21 with a newborn son
The next he's almost grown
roll
You're only here for a little while
So do somethin' that makes you smile
For me, it's callin' in sick to work
And takin' Grandpa's tackle box
the ground and thank the good Lord Jesus
And watch him run to grandma, cryin' on the dock
He opened up, every time he opened up
That old tackle box
He'd
Preacher Casey dropped him in his tracks.
Well, they handcuffed Casey and they took him to jail
And then he got away.
He met Tom Joad by the old river
'bling'
Alright? But he's
Pathetic he's 38 years old, single and
Bowls every weekend he's like, 'Why don't
You come over and help me name
My bowling team?'
me yea she dish it well
Besitos but I don't kiss and tell
Head to toes I got her gripping nails
Imma bring the hammer man I bet we'll build
Bar
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
This is where the young folks are born
And the old people die
We're just tryin' to get by
Tell 'em meet me at the crossroads
This is the good
soup
I'm saying hey Veruca Salt
Tell me what can I do
Find a golden ticket
How bout number two
A Beuregard's coming
Chewing on her gum
Her Dad square
Yeah
I take y'all way back
Seven years old, I'm lookin up to the gangstas in the hood
Cause to me and my cousins, yeah, they represented good
Yeah
I take y'all way back
Seven years old, I'm lookin up to the gangstas in the hood
Cause to me and my cousins, yeah, they represented good
turned me to a monster
He says repeatedly on
The hook i ask him about this song at dinner
And he tells me that he
Means the sentiment "in
A good and bad
Kentucky
hangin out with all of my brothers
Now I gotta tell you
we were some foolish Motherfuckers!
Talkin' bout the Good Old Days
Talk about good old days
new ain't 'bout to change
I'm still gonna do it my way
Yeah I still remain
So tell me why you hate the game?
So tell me why you hate the game?
This
January 21st
I still remember the date
You asked me how I was doing
I let it out, "I'm not great"
That week we met for some food, I tried to tell you
, turn fact to fuel
Fifty-two, like action news
Action starts by grabbin' cards
Makin' sure they're all there
Next part sayin' what's up to Grandpa
By
run a trotline
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive
I had a good friend in New York City
He never called me by my name
Just
the side of the road
But each time the devil's caught me I remembered what they taught me
In brush arbors by the side of the road
Old brush arbors by
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
Bottega on me, forever a slime
They waiting on me I Richard the time
Why do you promise me you gone stand by my and I feel it's April fool
Please dont tell
dancing with me
I get a beer, I give her a kiss
And one night on my bed, get her number
The next day the same old fucking routine
Good days (These good
GPT, Python does it all
And if you're not using it, then you're bound to fall (aye)
Let me tell you 'bout a game that's quite a thrill
A game of cards,
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